(no subject)

[bliumchik]

Ah, September mulberries. Not yet ripe, hard little red globes like tiny marbles all stuck together. And oh, the sweetness of finding one that is just shading purple, and detaching it from the tree and ignoring the fact that it is probably covered in germs, and popping it in your mouth to crush until it melts. October will come, and the tree will be heavy with fruit, the pavement beneath it splattered purple. And the trick or treaters will smear each others faces in mulberry juice, shrieking about blood and swirling their capes, and perhaps I shall be there too, but for now, September mulberries - just around the corner.